I'm Not a Mutant, But I Play One On TV
by Astorina
Summary: When people have mutant abilities that are extremely flashy or distructive, they go on to do one of two things: They join superhero teams, or they wind up with their own show on network television.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Ok, so I suppose I need to have one of these things. In case you hadn't realized by now, I do not own the xmen or any concept surrounding it. I'm just borrowing it for a little while. I promise to return it (relatively) unharmed. If you don't recognize the character, they belong to me. If you do... that's rather frightening, seeing as I have all OCs in this chapter. Later on? Who knows. I really have no idea where I'm heading with this thing, if I'm going anywhere. Or if I should even attempt to continue this thing. So tell me, to continue, or not to continue, that is the question!

When people have mutant abilities that are extremely flashy and/or destructive, they go on to do one of two things: They join superhero teams, or they wind up with their own show on network television. I happened to do the latter, and life couldn't be better. Famous last words.

Ok so maybe I didn't have my own show. But I was on one. Worse than the reality show trend, I swear. A new batch popped up every season. It seems psychics, ghost hunters, pyrokenetics and the like are good for ratings. Which was how I found myself on 'Destiny Shores'. Cliché does not begin to describe the current plot. But national exposure like that? I would have been insane to turn it down. Not to mention the money wasn't too bad either.

Cut to the chase: We had just finished filming the last episode of our first season a week or so ago, and various talking heads had decided it would be a good idea to meet and talk about the future of my character, Grace DeVive. In terms of the entertainment industry, this was Not Good. How do I describe Grace... well by default, she had to look a thing or two like me. Curvaceous but fit (of course), long red hair and the ivory complexion that goes along with it, tall side of average. Then there where the eyes. The one clue that perhaps I was not as normal as I seemed. They where silver, through and through. We're talking chrome here, and I am absolutely convinced they where the reason I got hired for this job. On anyone else they would have looked intimidating. On me, they looked... dare I say it? Cute. Yes, cute. Which is also why I was playing the role of best friend to the heroine, and not the heroine herself.

Speaking of Rachel, she was not here. Of course not- it was probably too early in the morning for her. Rachel, who played the obnoxiously perfect Melody DeVine, never had to be. I suppose when you're a 110 pound, 5'11, blonde hair, blue eyed boobshell... pardon me, bombshell, you don't have to be. I'm sure she was scheduled to have her own meeting, in which she would discuss her pay raise and further wrap the team of directors around her little finger. Oh yes, we just adore each other, can't you tell?

The number of people present for our 'discussion' was actually quite small, which did not bode well for me. Potentially anyway. It didn't take psychic abilities to see that they were about to tell me something I didn't want to hear. They didn't hurt though. My agent, Robert Broadhead looked positively green. Director, his assistant... the head writer? Ok, so maybe I wasn't going to be canned after all. But their position on the long end of the boardroom type table was meant to remind me who was in the position of power.

"Amber. Hello, sit down please." Rob was being a bit too formal, to tentative, and the napkin in his hand was being twisted into shreds.

"Hey, nice to see you guys again. Good season, don't you think?" I dropped myself into a chair, crossing my legs with a grin. Relaxed, informal... confident sounding? I hoped so anyway.

"Yes, dear. Of course it was. How has your morning been?" Matt Stein, executive producer and procrastinator extraordinaire asked, almost meeting my eyes.

"Small talk at this hour? It's too early." I yawned and repressed the urge to roll my eyes. "Don't sugar coat it."

Honestly, they should have known better. It wasn't as though they didn't know I knew what they knew. Talking in circles is fun, but not before noon, thanks.

"Usin' the ol'..." Gary, the head writer tapped two fingers against the side of his head. Absently I wondered what he was doing here, he was WAY out of his element. This time I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I always wondered if anyone could tell if I had, having no pupils and all. Even if they hadn't, the exaggerated sigh would clue him in.

"No." I said, turning away from him. He was one of the 'mutants are SO COOL!' types... which I suppose are better than the 'Die mutie, die!' types, though equally as annoying. He had just become a window dressing in my mind. Effectively Not There.

"No reason to be rude." Stein actually seemed nervous. As though he expected me to read his mind, expose all his darkest secrets, then blow him up for looking at me the wrong way. Honestly... as if he were worth the effort.

"I'm not the one being rude. Now if you don't mind, I believe you called this meeting to discuss the my future on the show?" Oh yes, cute girls can get angry. Especially when it comes down to contract talk.

I caught a fleeting surface thought from him as he put on his best burocrat smile _'If we turn Grace into a shape shifter, we can fire Amber and hire a human to play the character.'_

"Excuse me! You can't do that, I have a contra-"

"Yes, and your contract says-"

"You have no right!"

Rob cleared his throat quietly. "Actually he does have the right. You contract states that you are not allowed to utilize psychic abilities of any sort during formal discussions with creative staff, executives or talent." He was actually blushing. The energy around him had darkened. He was embarrassed. But not embarrassed enough.

"I question the legality of that condition." My tone more deadly than I had intended it be.

"Yes _sweetheart_, but you signed on the dotted line." Stein's sarcasm was tangible, he knew he had the upper hand.

And of course, so did I. Blushing slightly, I found myself examining the plush gray carpet. I was embarrassed by my own lack of conviction. Picking up on Rob's embarrassment certainly didn't help things. At times I felt bad for him- having to represent a mutant actress with a temper. He took a lot of flack for it, made sure I never got too much trouble from FOH and the like. But then he let these awful clauses slip into my contracts. Such as 'no display of mutant abilities unless necessary for filming'.

It wasn't fair, he knew it and I knew it. Hollywood makes a big deal about being open minded when it comes to mutants, but no one ever bothers to read the fine print. At least I had a job, something more than a passing gig. And I did have to hand it to Robbie, I was a tough case.

"Speaking of contracts..." I drew out in my sweetest tone, smiling my most innocent smile. "I believe I mine stated that _I_ would continue to play Grace if the network agreed to sign for another season. So unless I missed something, I believe we were discussing Grace's future on DS?" I projected good will. Just a little. That little 'no powers' clause didn't count if they didn't know I was doing anything.

Matt shook his head and grunted. Gary spoke up from his spot... near the door? Must of moved over there during the argument. "Um yes... well we were thinking maybe it was time to explore another aspect of Grace's personality." He cleared his throat, looking decisively shifty.

"Change is good, I like change. Hit me with it, what where you thinking?" He had me genuinely curious.

"What if Grace" He paused dramatically. "Where to go bad?"

I blinked at him. I stared at each of the three men in the room. Then promptly bursting out in laughter. "Was that?" I took a deep breath, giggles threatening to overtake me. "Was THAT what you where so nervous about?"

Nervous laughter broke out between the three men. "Well..." Gary stepped further back into the room.

"It was his idea." Matt nodded towards the other man.

Seeing as he was the writer... but I choose not to comment on that. "So, are we talking naughty school girl bad or torrid love affair with the villain bad?"

"We where thinking both. You know, naughty Goth school girl who wants to explore her sexuality." Well what do you know. Gary had grown balls again.

Of course I had been left speechless. Momentarily. "We're not... you know... turning this into porn or anything, are we?" God help me, had I actually just said that?

"Well no. We expect the rating to go up of course, along with a later time slot- smack in the middle of prime time! And a nice bonus for the cast" Stein was somewhat amiable again. Good on him.

"How much of a bonus? And.. er... how much.. ummm...?" Was I considering this? Did I really have a choice?

"Now, now, we still have to be able to show this on primetime cable. And enough to make it worth your while." He replied, as if I could refuse.

We all looked up to the sound of the door clicking shut. We were down one head writer. Weird one, that Gary. I figured I might eventually regret signing over creative control of my character, but at least they were kind enough to inform me of any major character changes before dropping off a wonker of a script. Not that it would have made one bit of difference in the long run. Legally I had no right to protest.

"Well then, if that's all." I stood up- it was only 10:30am. If I was lucky, I could still get back to my place and crash for a few hours.

Stein took a deep breath, and notably stayed planted in his seat. The energy around him shifted, and suddenly I knew what he had to tell me was something potentially much bigger. "I'm afraid it's not. Now I don't want to get you alarmed."

I had made it to the door frame, turned around and stopped dead in my tracks. I knew what he was going to say before he said it, but I prayed I was wrong. Even as he spoke I could feel my heart drop into the pit of my stomach.

"The network is considering a move to fire all mutant employees. Nothing is set in stone, but I thought you should know."


	2. Chapter 2

In a flash, I knew- if Matt had gone as far as to mention the possibility, it had already been decided. However, it would take a long time to implement. It would be messy, and they would try to keep it quiet. Call it intuition with a strong dose of deductive reasoning and common sense. See, that was the one thing I hated about any slight precognitive abilities I may have had. Things only seemed to come to me when something bad was going to happen, and even then I couldn't do anything about it most of the time. Firing all mutant employees? It had happened before- most of the time they never would have been hired in the first place. But someone in the casting department thought it 'innovative' to actually hire a mutant or two to amongst all the actors they usually used to play the host of mutant characters. How noble of them. I think the network ate it up because it saved them a few pennies on makeup and special effects. Frankly I was surprised they broached the subject at all. Fictional mutants were one thing. The real deal? Well, that was something else.

It had worked in their favor though, sparking major controversy. And everyone knows controversy brings in ratings and publicity. As loud as those bigoted mutant hating protestors are, I believe there are even more people who are curious about us. Especially if they can watch it all in the comfort and privacy of their own home. But people had a tendency to forget that what they where watching the result of what a team of second rate writers had dreamed up. It was a stereotypical drama with cardboard cutouts for characters. It was a world where mutants where either all good or all bad, but always suggestively dangerous. Yet it was what the audience wanted to see, so we delivered again and again. Hiring me had been a publicity stunt. If there where other mutants among the talent on any of the network's top rating shows, I didn't know about them. For the most part they worked behind the scenes- Lisa, the wardrobe mistress and Adrian in makeup where a couple I where close to, though I knew there were a few on the custodial staff as well. People suspected that Rachel was, but I knew she wasn't. Her energy was one hundred percent human, even if her self entitlement was in a class by itself. It seemed almost too perfect on their end- I would be the only visible disappearance. The rest? As crucial as _we _knew they where, most people would see them as expendable. The public wouldn't even notice. Something still lingered in my mind though, that as simple as it seemed to carry out, someone was going to step in and blow this up. As much as I wanted to, it wouldn't be me that exposed this little operation that I wasn't supposed to know about... that hadn't even happened yet.

Back in the here and now, I realized I had been staring at Matt while I had been hit with… whatever that was. He had paled several shades, as though he expected me to burst out with Grace's pyrotechnic blast- an ability god knows who had deemed to give her, though one I personally did not possess. It seemed as though he had forgotten that fact. Again.

"It's ok, I know it's not your fault." It seemed a woefully inadequate thing to say, but it did seem so calm him down a bit.

"Amber, have you ever thought about going back to school?" Robbie, playing the part of the ever practical agent, seemed to have found his voice again.

"And leave you out of a job? Never." My tone was so lighthearted I even surprised myself. "Look, I'll call you later."

If either man had anything else to say, I didn't hear it. The door slammed behind me as the sound of my designer stilettos clicked down the hallway. They had cost me a week's pay, and where probably the first and last pair of that caliber I'd ever own. Unfair was not the word to describe this situation. I wasn't sure if I wanted to tear down the door of every office in the building, or curl up in bed and cry myself to sleep. So I laughed, probably looking more than a little mentally unstable.

I passed a poster someone had hung in a slightly crooked fashion on the wall approaching the lobby. It showed the entire cast of 'Destiny Shores' smiling on the beachfront. The slogan running along the bottom read **'Destiny Shores and TGN Network- working for mutant equality' **

I tore it down as I tore past, cheeks burning red with anger as I ripped it into tiny pieces. Reaching the front door, I allowed the sudden breeze to carry the shreds away.

Not even noon, and I was ready to end the day. I suppose equality only exists for those who don't find themselves in the minority.

* * *

AN: Ok, so I know I didn't move the plot far with this bit. I'm still not sure where I'm going with this, though I have more of an idea now. I'm considering bringing in an X-verse villain within the next part or so… I'm playing with the idea of Sinister, though I know he's not movie verse, and I'll admit to not knowing a whole lot about him. But he's caught my attention for some reason. Or any other bad guy who seems to enjoy emotional manipulation as a favorite passtime. What can I say, I'm a weird one! 

Thankyouthankyouthankyou to Meadowlark and army-of-one for the reviews. They seriously make my day. And I especially appreciate your criticisms Maranora, I knew I had to be missing a thing or two with that late night, caffeine induced posting. I'll be sure to go through everything at a more sane hour… or maybe gasp quit posting at 2am when my brain has gone to sleep but my fingers just keep on typing.


	3. Chapter 3

Army-of-one is army of one reviewer! Single handedly helping fanfic authors keep the faith that _someone_ out there is indeed reading their work. Simply put: you rock!

AN: Ok, take back what I said last time. I don't know where I'm going after all. Well, I thought I did, but then ideas started running in different directions, bouncing off the walls of my kitchen, and things got very messy. But! I was able to scribble out this part. Thank goodness for small miracles. But oy, do I need some inspiration. Any ideas? All comments, thoughts, criticisms, etc., welcome!

* * *

"Look, I'm not an angel, and I never said I was." I stabbed my spoon into the pint of Ben & Jerry's that had become my lunch, while juggling the receiver of the cordless phone between my ear and my shoulder.

"Don't I know it. But chica, you make a deal with the devil and you have to deal with the consequences." That would be Joseph. Appearance wise he was the complete opposite of me- tall dark, and oh so handsome. "Not what you wanted to hear. But..." No psychic senses there, just the result of knowing me since I moved to New York several years ago.

"But it's true. Joe, do me a favor. Don't remind me." I curled into the corner of the rather large couch. There I was, looking completely out of place in my own studio apartment. Sweatpants and all, I looked as though my boyfriend had run over my favorite puppy, then broke up with me. Truth was I could have dealt with that. But being caught in a trap partly of my own making? Not so much.

"You want me to come over?" His tone was hopeful. My heart fluttered, but I knew better than to accept. He was my non-boyfriend, non-friends with benefits (most of the time, anyway), sympathetic ear of the male persuasion. And I wanted to keep it that way.

"Nah, I know you're probably busy- hey! What are you doing home this late in the morning anyway?" It was a worthy question. Last time I checked he was working full time as a personal trainer at a gym a couple blocks from his place.

"Think you're the only one having job troubles chicky? Mutants aren't the only ones who get fired for no good reason, you know." I bit my tongue. It seemed I had forgotten that life's little injustices struck anyone and everyone.

"Joe _darling_? What did you do?"

"Man, he totally deserved it." I could almost see him stand up, pace around the room, and pound his fist into his palm.

I shook my head, not that he could see it over the phone. "I'm sure. Spare me the details and better luck next time."

"Some sympathetic friend you are." A grin found it's way back into his voice.

"Almost as sympathetic as you are. You like my bluntness and you know it."

"It's cute. Almost as cute as your a-"

"Hey, I gotta go. Love you Joe." I hung up, heart pounding. It was the third time I'd hung up on him like that in the past month, and he never brought it up. He told me he loved me all the time, but I wasn't sure quite what he meant by it. Sure, it would have been easy enough to pry- just a little- but it didn't feel right with him. If we ever managed any sixth sense type connection ( and we did, quite often actually) it had nothing to do with mutations. But the last thing I needed at the moment were more complications, so I would just leave that as yet another unanswered 'I love you'.

Placing the half empty ice cream carton on the coffee table, I stood up and stretched, walking languidly over to the picture window that overlooked my quaint little block of NYC. It was going to storm. As if the breeze and temperature drop I noticed earlier weren't indication enough, I could see static electricity building in the higher levels of clouds, which had turned a dark ominous grey. As a result, everything seemed more slightly charged than normal. I could see this too.

I suppose I should explain. With completely silver eyes like I have, I don't quite see like most people do. It's close enough, but the simplest way I know how to explain it is to say that I see energy. All kinds of energy. As far as I can tell, all sorts of physical and psychic energy. It can be distracting at times, but I have it under enough control so that most of the time it looks like an overlay on top of how I use to see things before my DNA decided to go and have a field day. There are exceptions of course. The psi abilities? I guess you could call me an empath and a sometimes telepath. There are all sort of other oddities that I supposedly have the potential to develop- but I never have. By choice. I learned enough control to get by, and let and let the finer aspects of my most obvious abilities fall to the wayside. The more physical abilities are now all but dormant. I still have an odd relationship with static electricity. That random bright blue spark that appeared on the other side of the room when I lost my temper? Not me, I swear. Honestly. I'll leave any and all devastating abilities to my on screen persona.

Speaking of which, I knew I was supposed to be getting a script one of these days. As much as the network was looking forward to 'letting me go', they would need me to film the season opener. I mean... you can't just change a character into a shape shifter without showing the original person (aka ME, thankyouverymuch) at least once. I had to weigh my options. I could pull one over on them and refuse to shoot the episode unless they agreed to sign me on for at least five or so more episodes. But knowing them, they'd oust me for attempting to blackmail them, and I'd end up with nothing. How could I be worrying about something that hadn't even happened yet? Damn precog-whateverness. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. I could say screw all of this and run off and join that Magnethead guy they keep talking about in the news so much. Intriguing as that train of thought was, I might have to give up my creature comforts. Not to mention the little portion of my mind that sang 'can't we all just get along?' whenever I took the time to catch up on mutant affairs outside of the studio. Damn latent righteous moral convictions. They may not apply to _my_ life, but damn it, let there be peas on earth! Or something. Right. So that was a no go. I needed to call Robby and make some real life decisions here. However, agents are nortious for never taking their client's calls. This would probably go double for me, as I had actually _seen_ him just a few hours ago. And effectively dismissed any advice he tried to give me. But at the moment I was in no mood to have a heart to heart with his voice mail. And he'd call me. Eventually. You know, if hell froze over.

Aye dios mio, I wanted my mommy! No, I don't care if I'm 24 years old. Mommy still has the magical ability to make everything better. But in the long run, it would be up to me. You're only a victim if you let yourself be. What would happen if I choose to act before the network did? Would they accuse me of using mutant abilities to save myself from effectively having my feet pulled out from under me? Of course they would.

Running away from all of this was looking better and better every day. All I needed was the word that the network had made the declaration to fire all mutant employees official, and I would tear out of town, never once looking back.


End file.
